After a short rest and a thorough search of the caves, the party, now accompanied by Kathel's caravan, completes the journey to Westbank. Kathel pays her final thanks to the group, then heads off to tend to the burial of Garrith.

The rest of the caravan unloads their modest cart of leather goods and sees about rooms, some at Polly's and others at the Trollip and Troll. There is still some daylight left as this takes place, but evening is closing in (about 4:00pm by the time final farewells are made with Kathel and the caravan).

The first of the townsfolk to approach the weary adventurers upon their return is Tyus, the young guard tasked with the investigation into the murder of Morlough Merris. He smiles broadly as he approaches. "I think I've found the murder weapon," he explains. "A rapier, still bloodied, hidden in the pines to the south of Polly's hotel. And one of the deceased's rings. A quite ornate thing. Ugly, if you ask me. The killer must've dropped it when he was burying the weapon."

He continues to smile at them hopefully. "The mayor says that casts even less suspicion on you, even though he still doesn't fully trust the halfling (no offense). But we still don't have any idea, if it's none of you, who actually did it."


OOC: Westbank is now open for exploration. You can assist Tyus with the investigation, learn more about the magic items you've acquired (although your arcana rolls did you pretty well), find someone to translate the parchment, head back to the cave by the bridge, interrogate Malik for more answers, look for more of Morlough's jewelry in the pines, get your various gems and jewelry appraised, see what Mattis has cooking at the Trollip and Troll, steal armor from the blacksmith (wait, you already did that), look for entirely new hooks, or just turn in for the night.

You have already developed a long list of contacts here (Tyus, the Mayor, Enoch, Brother Walword, Hyacinth and Kevril Moonstone, Samuel the bartender, Zelgor, Malik, Renny and Piers, Mrawk (wherever he is), Allis and Nordal Livingston (whom you saved from the orcs on the journey north), and Tovar, to name a few). Feel free to hit them up for info, favors, as needed.

It has been less than 24 hours since Sister Gwendelon departed, so the time until her return is still multiple days (you figure at least 5). Beyond that, there is nothing pressing, so if you want to take even a few days to plot out your next moves, so be it. The main map is now the one for Westbank, so use that, as needed.

You also have a little bit of treasure to spend, so feel free to do that. All prices in Westbank will follow the guidelines in the Players Handbook.

In reply to DM (msg # 1):

"Tytus, let me see that ring. Hmm. It's interesting. Not unattractive. A bit gaudy. I like it." Lazaret inspects the ring closely then puts it on.

09:44, Today: Lazaret rolled 11 using 1d20.  Arcana/History/Religion on Ring.

"Now. We have this bit of writing. Show him, Therarak. Do you recognize it? Is there someone around who could read this? I do hope it isn't of Drow origin. Nasty creatures the Drow. They look just like a frostbit Celador. Creepy."

Lazaret pockets Merris' ring.

Lazaret isn't kidding when he classifies the gem-studded ring of Morlough Merris as gaudy. To say it was less than that would be an understatement. The craftsmanship is fair and the gems sparkle all along the band in an attention getting way. Recalling the incidents of his first night in Westbank, Lazaret recalls that Merris wore several such rings.

He pockets the ring as Tyus examines the parchment handed to him.
00:30, Today: DM rolled 6 using 1d20.  Tyus DC15 Perception roll to see Lazaret pocketing the ring.

"No idea what these markings are," Tyus admits. "But I bet Bobbin at the library could do it. He's as smart as they come."

OOC: The library is a modest addition to the All Faiths Church (added to the game map).

In reply to DM (msg # 3):

"Nobbin! Got it." Lazaret grabs the parchment and sprints over to the library.

He examines Merris' ring along the way.

18:42, Today: Lazaret rolled 10 using 1d20.  Arcana (Merris' ring).
This message was last edited by the player at 00:42, Mon 20 Nov 2017.

OOC: Thorfire please make a perception roll. There's something you might notice here that nobody else would recognize.

With gem-studded ring pocketed, Lazaret snatches the parchment from Tyus's hands and scampers toward the All Faiths Church. Shortly after he disappears, Tyus pats himself down frantically, looking pointlessly back and forth as if it might just be floating in the air in front of him. "What happened to that ring? That's part of the investigation. If the Mayor finds out I lost it... oh crap."


On his way to the church, Lazaret removes the ring from his pocket and inspects it more closely. As he noted earlier, the it is a bit gaudy for most, but probably fit in well with Merris's look-at-me style. The gems are small in size, but there are several of them, with one central ruby acting as the centerpiece. The band itself is scratched and the gems are fairly dull. There is no hint of an arcane connection. Lazaret suspects it is nothing more than a gaudy ring, one of several that he saw the merchant wear both the night they first met and again when he made amends last night.

It is a short walk to the library, a small building added to the church. Lazaret enters through the front doorway and finds himself in a fairly small (20' x 20') room stacked floor to ceiling with books shelved in several narrow rows. The room is dimly lit by a single window on the southwest wall (adjescent to the door he just entered). All other walls are lined with shelves. The setting sun through the window alights motes of dust which float in the air like silent watchers. The room smells faintly of vanilla.

Next to the entryway is a short table with a single chair behind it. Upon the table sits a short stack of books, a dull stone about the size of Lazaret's fist, and next to that a small mound (about a tablespoon) of dirt.

The room is silent.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:35, Mon 20 Nov 2017.

"Very well Laz, you head to the library, I'm not the book reading type. My ears are still ringing a bit from that ogre and I'd like to see if Mattis has something that will take care of this swelling. Maybe find an optometrist too and take a look at this eye. I understand they are wonderful healers, some of the best you'll find anywhere." Celador says as he turns and makes his way toward the Trollop and the Troll, his gait still a bit unsteady.

Battered and bruised, Celador limps to the Trollip and Troll, which is just starting to get busy for the night. Tovar and several of his companions from the mill sit around one table and few other townsfolk take up about half of the seats. At a table to one side sit two portly men. One is bald and the other wears a cap that sits crookedly atop a head of messy, brown hair. The pair sit over a stack of papers.

The entire tavern pauses momentarily as the elf walks in. Several townsfolk eye him apprehensively, but only for a second. They then return to their own conversations, whatever they may be.

Mattis Bumbleford is at work again, scurrying between tables when she spots Celador. "Good heavens," she gasps. "Celador you look terrible! Are you okay? Should I call for Brother Walword? He or one of his apprentices should be able to help."

In reply to DM (msg # 5):

Momentarily intrigued by the dust in the light, Lazaret turns his attention to the table. He casually picks up the stone and examines it.

06:45, Today: Lazaret rolled 3 using 1d20.  Investigation of stone.

He absentmindedly places the stone in his pocket. It has piqued his interest for no other reason than that it is exactly the same size as his fist.

"Bobbin? Hallo! I am Firestar of the Lazaret, Hero of Westbank and Slayer of Ogres. Where are you, man?"
This message was last edited by the player at 12:46, Mon 20 Nov 2017.

In reply to DM (msg # 5):

Thorfire examines the evidence with his excellent perceptive gaze.

08:36, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 6 using 1d20+2, rerolling ones.  Perception.

In reply to Celador Qiris (msg # 6):

Thorfire mumbles to himself...What the heck is an optometrist?  Sounds like someone who likes empty eye sockets...I wonder what you could do with an empty eye socket?!?

In reply to DM (msg # 1):

Hello Tyus, What an interesting rapier...may I see it for a minute? He looks at the rapier to see if he can find any identifying markings or house sigil...The pommel on his rapier is rather lavish having liberated it from one of his targets some time ago.

08:43, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 9 using 1d20-1, rerolling ones.  Investigation.

After looking carefully at the rapier, he says Tyus, Can you show me where you found the ring and the rapier?
This message was last edited by the player at 14:47, Mon 20 Nov 2017.

Thorfire can't help thinking that something about Merris's gem studded ring (now in Lazaret's possession) seems familiar, but he can't put his finger on what exactly that something is.

Once Lazaret departs, the halfling changes his focus to the rapier. Tyus is still suspicious of Thorfire, and needs a little coaxing before he gives the murder weapon to him, but eventually the youthful guard agrees.

Upon closer examination, Thorfire finds the rapier is in poor condition. It is basic in form, having no representation for its house of origin. Its most notable feature is rust. Lots of it. Had it not been for the blood, one might wonder whether such a tool could even do the job for which it was originally designed.

"It's really a crappy weapon," Tyus mentions, almost reading the halfling's mind. "I mean - why use a crappy old rapier to kill the poor guy?"

At the halfling's request, Tyus leads him to the small grove of trees where the weapon was found, due south of Polly's and across the street from the constable's office. "It was buried in a pile of pine needles over here," he explains. "And the ring was here, next to the pile. Not buried, just sitting there...maybe he dropped it."

"Eh?" a voice squeaks from down one of the rows. Lazaret hears a shuffling of feet, followed (eventually) by the appearance of a halfling, dressed in a checkered vest and baggy trousers. "Fire started in Castleway? Who started it?"

The silver-haired halfling gives Lazaret a long look. "Tabaxi? Well isn't that a something or other! Been a long time since we've seen the likes of you. Been years, hasn't it Cornelius." He looks to the table.

"Cornelius? Now where has he run off to?"

In reply to DM (msg # 13):

"I'm sure he is here somewhere. Look. My friends and I encountered some orcs South of town a bit. Nasty fellows. Anyway. We found this scrap of parchment and none of us recognize the language. Titus said you would probably be able to read it for us. Could be valuable information to keep this town safe.

"Here. Would you mind taking a look? I'd be happy to help you find your friend afterward."

Lazaret lays the parchment down on the table for the halfling to peruse. He also takes a look around the room to look for anything useful or interesting.

05:46, Today: Lazaret rolled 14 using 1d20.  Perception.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:46, Tue 21 Nov 2017.

In reply to DM (msg # 12):

Intrigued by the rust, Thorfire further examines the ground near where the weapon was found.  He looks for clues to who may have buried the weapon such as rust near the reported pine needles,  foot or hand impressions to gauge the size of the person that buried the rapier and any other useful clues.

17:10, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 7 using 1d20-1, rerolling ones.  Investigation

After carefully looking at the ground, he straightens up and looks Tyus in the eye while practically caressing the hilt of his rapier.

Given the amount of rust on the so called murder weapon and the undisturbed nature of the area, it is clear to me that the weapon has been buried here for quite some time...why are you lying to us about what you found?  Who are you trying to protect? Why do you think this is the murder weapon? You said it yourself, why would someone use such a dilapidated weapon.

Be quick about it, I have little patience for people that lie to us and a razor sharp blade.

17:11, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 12 using 1d20+5, rerolling ones.  Deception.

OOC: I am trying to deceive him about what I found so he spills the beans on someone
This message was last edited by the player at 23:31, Tue 21 Nov 2017.

Bobbin pays Lazaret very little attention as the tabaxi explains his linguistic needs. Instead, the halfling stares down each row of books with a puzzled look on his face. "That's just like him! Wandering off without telling me." He sighs. "You think he'd be more courteous, seeing that I'm the one who takes care of him. But not Cornelius. He's a mind of his own and he's as stubborn as a mule!"

The halfling seems solely focused on finding his friend. Lazaret's scan of the room reveals nothing out of the ordinary. Lots of books and little else.

Tyus backpedals, with palms raised defensively. "I'm not lying," he protests, voice a little higher than usual. "This is where I found it. And the blood is fresh. And I don't know why anyone would use such a crappy weapon. It looks like something from the pile of confiscated crap we keep in the back of the armory.

He gives a puzzled look to the halfling. "I thought you'd be happy. Nobody here uses a rapier and when Merris was killed with one - I mean, who else could it have been? If it weren't for this crappy weapon (and that funny talking northerner), you'd still be the prime suspect!"

OOC: Per your passive perception, the kid looks sincere (and a little shaken). If he's hiding something, he's doing a masterful job of hiding it.

In reply to DM (msg # 16):

When the halfling has his back turned, Lazaret leans over and picks Cornelius up off the floor.

"Is this your friend? He was headed out the door. Must be dinner time." Lazaret hands the stone to Bobbin. "Now. The parchment? Time is of the essence. I've been fighting orcs and ogres all day and rumor has it that my elven friend has headed back to the tavern for some rather sad, yet still entertaining, flirtation with a certain bar maid who rather fancies him. Terrible how he leads her on, but one day I am sure it will come to blows. Or fornication."

"No worries, dear Mattis, it is a bit nastier than it looks. You should have seen the filthy ogre on the other end of the club. Luckily I kept my wits and my long sword about me and finished the wretched creature before he could eat the cat man for lunch!" Celador explains at a volume that is just loud enough for any one eavesdropping to overhear.

"Yes indeed, saving that caravan, and no doubt the people of this fair city," he continues for those interested in acts of valor and bravery, "has made me quite hungry. I was hoping you'd have a meat pie or maybe some pasties. And a big glass of ale." He finishes with a smile as he pats Mattis on the...hand.

"Maybe this town will stay saved long enough for me to get a good nights sleep and tomorrow we'll find out who murdered Mr. Merris."


23:51, Today: Celador Qiris rolled 7 using 1d20.  Persuasion or performance.

Relax my friend, I am happy you found the blade and that I am no longer the prime suspect.  I just wanted to be sure there isn't something else going on...  After all, I will be the one swinging from the gallows if we can't solve this murder.  Can you take me to the room where the murder was committed?

While we walk to the inn, please tell me more about the confiscated weapons at the armory and who might have access to them.

09:35, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 16 using 1d20+2, rerolling ones.  Persuasion.

In reply to DM (msg # 1):

Therarak heads over to the Trollip and Troll to get  the latest news and rumors. He's particularly interested in hearing any reports that might involve the Underdark or the drow.

Bobbin's face alights at the return of the stone. "Cornelius!" he cheers, holding the rock at eye level for a serious talk. "Where did you think you were going? Wandering off right at suppertime? I have half a mind to send you to bed with nothing!" His stern look quickly melts, however, and a smile returns to his face as he turns to Lazaret. "Who am I kidding? That's just who he is. Always up for an adventure, Cornelius is. I try to keep him out of trouble, but I have to tell you, it's a full time job! Once when I was fetching books from a generous patron just west of town, I left him for a few hours and when I came home he was nowhere to be found. Turns out he went to the stable to see about a pony ride. Can you believe it? A pony ride. At his age!"

He gives the gray stone a couple pats, sets it back on the table next to the mound of dirt, then clears his throat and turns his attention to the parchment. "Now Cornelius if you'll excuse me for a moment, this fine tabaxi has a paper for me to read."

His nose wrinkles in concentration. "Orcish. Dreadful language. Rare to find a written sample. Strangely clear penmanship for an orc... usually written orc is almost unreadable, which isn't so bad for them since most orcs aren't able to read, anyway!" He chuckles, clears his throat, and returns his concentration to the parchment.

"Let no caravan leave Westbank to the south, it says.
Destroy any that try. Search them for the black stone.
If it is found, send word to me by messenger.
All other treasure is yours, but leave the stone untouched!
Then it is signed in a flourish by someone named...oh dear. Well isn't that odd. It is signed by Vhurraun Baenath!"

Mattis giggles at the elf's story, injecting an "oh my" and a "my goodness" here and there. Finally, with another giggle, she takes the elf's order and hustles to the kitchen.

About that time, Therarak arrives in the Trollip and Troll and joins the elf at the table. Between the two of them, they work the ever-filling tavern and hear a few rumors of interest (none of which are necessarily true).
  * Morlough Merris was actually an evil wizard.
  * Whoever killed Merris also stole a fortune's worth of jewelry.
  * Gregor Livingstone, recently arrived from Alaka, carries a magic sword.
  * Someone north of town found a raven man sleeping against his house last night. He called Brother Walword out to bless the spot, but the Brother said it wasn't necessary. The raven man left no curse.
  * Taylin Naar captured a Red Tooth Orc and has him imprisoned in his house. That's why they have become emboldened recently.
  * The young guard Tyus cares for five piglets at his home that never age. They were a gift from his grandfather.

When Therarak mentions the drow specifically, the only response he gets is that "they are ancient history in Westbank, thanks to Staal Stronghammer." This is followed by a "Hear hear!" from a few others within earshot and a general guzzling of ale.

Tyus heaves an audible sigh of relief when the halfling dismisses his accusations and leads him north from the patch of trees to toward the hotel where Morlough Merris was killed. "The room is still under investigation. We told Polly not to rent it out to anyone tonight... and she wasn't too happy about it. Made the Mayor pay for the room out of his own pocket."

As they continue, he discusses the weapons. "The confiscated weapons are just the crappy ones that have no value. Over the years, they kind of accumulate. A farmer kills a goblin trying to eat one of his cows. In the morning they call us and to take the body and throw the rest of the stuff away. But Sister Gwendelon says the weapons, no matter how crappy they are (and believe me, they're usually crappy when it's goblins), need to be locked up. So they pile up in the back room of the armory. Enoch keeps a list of what's in there. The room is locked, but all of the guards know where the key is." He thinks about it for a moment. "Not very secure, but not like anyone would want that crap anyway."

They arrive at the Puffy Pillow and Tyus leads Thorfire up the stairs and into the room where Merris slept (and died) last night. "Here it is," he says. "They did quite a bit of cleaning until the Mayor told them the investigation was still ongoing. There was blood on the bedding and on the floor there. They changed the bedding already, but you can still see the spot on the floor."

the room is as Tyus describes it. The floor has a large blood stain on it. It is cleaned to some extent, but the stain is still evident.

In reply to DM (msg # 24):

"Thank you, Nobbin. Do you know what this black stone is? Sounds quite remarkable."

Lazaret looks down at Cornelius before leaving. "Umm. Here is a silver for your time and your linguistic capabilities. I uh. I wonder. Would uh Cornelius here like to accompany me on a great adventure? Sounds like he, like me, suffers from wanderlust once in a while. Perhaps he can ride along while we seek a murderer and put an end to this orc trouble. What do you say? Let an old friend have one last hurrah?"

(After receiving his answer from Bobbin, Lazaret makes his way to the Trollop and Troll.)

In reply to DM (msg # 24):

Did any other guests hear or see anything? I thought the murderer used a rope to escape from the window.  Where is the rope?  Thorfire searches the room, although he is not sure he is even in the right inn....

22:36, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 1 using 1d20-1, rerolling ones.  Investigation.

Bobbin looks surprised at the offer and his eyes dart back and forth from the stone in his hands to Lazaret. "Cornelius?" he starts. "Oh no. He'd never like such a dangerous journey as orcs and murder." He continues to pet the rock nervously. "Plus, he's needed at the library. I can't do this all by myself. Brother Walword has a high standard for the organization of this place... Yes, he's definitely needed." He mutters to himself for a moment, conversing with the stone, perhaps. "What's that? But have you thought of the dangers?" Another pause. "There'll be orcs... and murderers... Yes I know but you need to consider..." Bobbin turns a shoulder to Lazaret and continues to mumble inaudibly for several seconds.

Finally, the old halfling turns back to Lazaret with a sigh. "Well, it's against my own better judgement, but Cornelius thinks he would like to join you on your adventures and I'm afraid if I don't agree, he'll be pouting about here from dawn until dusk. I, frankly, am petrified by his decision," he giggles at his clever choice of words. "But am willing to let him enjoy your company on this adventure."

He reaches into a desk drawer and pulls out a small pouch. "This is his food. He eats a spoonful three times a day with a little water. I've told him to behave but I'll warn you he doesn't always listen."

Lazaret notices a tear welling in the old halfling's eye. "So that should be it, Cornelius. Be careful, and listen to Mr. Lazaret at all times." He hands the stone carefully to Lazaret and stands like a proud parent in the doorway as he watches the tabaxi depart for the Trollip and Troll.

Tyus paces the room in search of a clue, something he's done several times already today. "The only witness was the strange-talking northerner. Nobody else saw or heard a thing." He points to the window. "Rope is still there, hanging in front of the window." Thorfire walks over, opens the window, and tugs on the rope a couple times. It is secured to the roof with a grappling hook, skillfully tossed. The sill itself has an indent consistent with something used to pry it open from the outside. Inside, the latch on the top of the window is also broken, lending further merit to this theory regarding the murderer's method of entry.

Thorfire's investigation is interrupted by when a stern looking lady clears her throat in the doorway. "Tyus, you said you'd take that body with you about ten hours ago and it's still sitting out back. I'm trying to run a business here, not a morgue. So are you going to take it with you this time or will I have to inform Sister Gwendelon about this when she returns?"

Tyus blushes slightly. "Uh, begging your pardon, Ms. Pennington. Yes. Yes I absolutely will take the deceased with me this time..." He glances over to Thorfire. "See. I've even brought some help."

The innkeeper turns with a huff and heads back down the hall.

Tyus turns to Thorfire with a part-hopeful-part-desperate look on his face. "That was Polly Pennington. It's her inn... any chance I could get your help moving the body back to the office?"

In reply to DM (msg # 28):

Let me further check the rope in case there are any odd fibers or other indication of the former owner or origin of the rope, then I will examine the body before we haul it away. Where do we need to take it?

14:16, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 19 using 1d20-1, rerolling ones Investigation
This message was last edited by the player at 20:21, Sun 26 Nov 2017.

Thorfire examines the rope and finds no remnants of material from its owner. The rope is old, but still reliable. He pulls the loose end up from the ground below and finds the end slightly frayed, again revealing its age. More notably, however, he finds a tag tied near the end with a piece of string. The tag reads 1175 EG, with the letters in a flourishing script.

Tyus finishes looking through the various belongings of Merris which are still left in the room. There is a chest full of fine clothes (Morlough's own, by the looks of it), another chest with various (boring, by Thorfire's standards) merchant things, and a stack of books, none of which are of particular note. He looks up from the pile of non-clues, fishes a key from his pocket, and moves toward the doorway. "I guess the body's in back," he suggests. "We need to take it back to the Constable's Office for final disposition, but I have to lock up here first so nobody steals any of the belongings. Mayor says there might still be a clue up here somewhere, but I doubt it."

"Therarak, my little friend. i have talked with a couple gents over there in the corner and they seem to think that Merris was a wizard..." Celador quietly motions to a table in the corner with a couple respectable looking townsfolk.

"...and that guy says that our buddy the birdman from the dungeons may still be in town.." as he nods at man sitting across the tavern at a table by himself.

"...best of all is that guy who tells a tale of some piglets that never grow old..." Celador casually waves to a man at the bar who is sitting by himself. The man's clothes are filthy from top to bottom and there seems to be a small swarm of flies that circle him. He appears to be looking over at Celador and Therarak, though it is difficult to tell since his eyes don't seem to point in the same direction, and he is grinning and eagerly waving back, "...though I suspect he's a real nutter."

"Have you tried the Shepard's pie? It's fantastic." he continues, "I think we head back to the inn to see what the halfling has learned and hope our cat friend hasn't gotten himself in trouble."

In reply to DM (msg # 30):

Good idea on locking up the scene, the room looked tampered enough without more people disturbing the potential evidence.

I would like to interview Polly and the cleaning personnel, then look at the body before we take it back to the Constable's Office.

In reply to Celador Qiris (msg # 31):

"When have I ever gotten myself into trouble that I haven't gotten myself out of the same trouble. You lot on the other hand..."

Sitting down at the table, "I've spoken to Nobbin, fascinating fellow. He can speak to rocks! Anyway, he told me what the writing said on this parchment. Turns out it is orcish. Who knew?"

Lazaret places the parchment on the table and interprets:

"Don't let no carpool leave Westbank to the south - their grammar is unforgivable.
Molest any that try. Search them for the black stone - this is important!
If it is round, send turd to me by manager - vile creatures, the orcs!
All other shiny things is yours, but leave the stone unfingered! - not sure what that means.
It is signed Vhurraun Baenath"

Lazaret says name a little too loud in a crowded tavern.

"Now, who has shepherd's pie? I missed lunch. Oh, and tell me everything you've found out."

Just as Therarak and Celador prepare to leave, Lazaret joins them at the Trollip and Troll. Shortly after he sits, Mattis stops by and takes his order while the adventurers share their information.


OOC: You don't need to (but you can) RP the info exchange if you don't want. Since you all have access to this thread, you all have the various rumors and facts and translations. Feel free to assume you know whatever anybody else has learned in this thread.

In reply to DM (msg # 34):

"My belly is full of ale and your girlfriend's pie. My compliments. I think we should head back to the Inn and get a good night's sleep. Perhaps Thorfire and the crazy man who talks funny can fill us in on the murder mystery. I'm sure our rooms are still being held for us."

Tyus gives Thorfire a look. "Are you sure? Polly can be kind of, well you know, she's quite confident and can be a little... abrupt, I guess you might say, but if you insist."

The young guard leads Thorfire down the stairs (Thorfire notices that the third step from the top has a noticeable squeak) and to the front desk, where Polly Pennington shuffles through some papers. "Uh, excuse me, Ms. Pennington," Tyus stutters. "My associate and I would like to ask you a few questions about the murder if you don't mind."

Polly looks up from her papers with an annoyed scowl. "Associate? Don't you mean suspect? Everybody knows that short-stuff here and the catman were arguing with the deceased night before last. So there's your motive. And that blade on his side is probably the murder weapon, so there's your means. Do you need me to arrest him for you and do the rest of your job while I'm at it?"

"We've received new information that clears his name," Tyus explains. "A witness contends that he saw the murderer leave the inn last night, and the murder weapon has been found, and it is not Thorfire's blade. So I'm afraid the suspect is still at large."

"Well what else do you want to know that I haven't already said? This morning one of the girls sees Merris's door is open, so she peeks in and there she finds him, lying on the floor in a pool of blood. Dead. Nobody heard a thing."

"Could we possibly speak to the girl."

"You could if she was still here, but she's gone home. A bit shaken by the whole ordeal."

"And the body?"

"Thought you'd never ask. It's in the back. Please get rid of it like you promised you'd do about twelve hours ago!" Polly points down a short hallway to a door on the west exterior wall of the building.

Tyus shrugs his shoulders at Thorfire, giving him a let's-just-go-get-the-body-and-get-out-of-here sort of look.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:10, Tue 28 Nov 2017.

In reply to DM (msg # 36):

Thorfire causally flips 2 gold pieces onto the counter. Ms. Pennington, allow me to offset some of the cost of having to deal with this hassle.  Tyus and I will take care of the body in a bit, but I would like to ask a few questions first.  My companions and I have agreed to help the mayor solve this murder.  After all, we have a vested interest in getting to the bottom of this.

You mentioned that one of your employees noticed that the door to Morlough's room was open and she saw Mr. Merris on the floor in a pool of blood.  Tyus told me earlier that there was also blood on the bedding, but that has now been cleaned up and the blood on the floor was also scrubbed.  Who cleaned up the room and what happened to the bedding?

If the door was open as your employees states, who would have had keys to his room?

Where would we find your employee who found the body?  We would like to ask her a few questions too.

Oh, by the way, do the initials EG mean anything to you?

21:28, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 17 using 1d20+2, rerolling ones.  Perception. (Trying to perceive if Ms. Pennington is lying to me.)
This message was last edited by the player at 03:31, Wed 29 Nov 2017.

The scowl on Polly's face softens just a little bit when Thorfire presents her the two gold coins. She still isn't entirely enamored by the halfling, but she's at least willing to listen to a few questions. "There was blood everywhere. On the floor, on the bedding. Even on the window. Erlen cleaned the room best she could. She put he bedding in a pile out back. We'll burn it tonight. Then she scrubbed the floor."


"I was the only one with a key to the room last night other that Mr. Merris himself." She gives Thorfire a stern look. "And if you think you can try pinning this on me, don't try it."

"Hermina found the body, poor girl. Bawled like a little baby when she came to tell me.
 But that's hardly new. That girl is crying half the time even when things are going good. Where is she? At home. She was quite upset, so I told here to take a rest and come back tomorrow. She should be here at sunrise tomorrow."

Polly shruggs her shoulders. As she does, Thorfire notices Tyus shifting his weight nervously. "I think I might know who EG is," he interrupts. "I'll tell you on the way back to the office."

In reply to DM (msg # 38):

Thorfire bows respectfully to Polly. Thank you for your time, Tyus and I will retrieve the body and the bedding...we can take care of that for you.

Once Thorfire and Tyus get to the body, Thorfire begins a cursory examination looking for the placement of the wounds, number of wounds, and potentially defensive marks.  Once this is done, he looks at the bedding for any clues, ripped fabric, etc.

11:08, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 15 using 1d20-1.  Investigation.

"Well it's about time somebody involved in this investigation actually did something," Polly replies, giving Tyus a stern look as she does.

Thankful that the conversation with the innkeeper is over, Tyus hustles to the back door. The body and bedding is easy to find. Thankfully the cold has kept decay from setting in.

Thorfire examines the body closely. It is clothed in an elegant nightshirt with gold trim. Had the wearer not been dead, the halfling might have laughed at the outfit, for he has never worn anything quite so extravagant, awake or asleep. The cause of death is clear. There are two stab wounds in Merris's chest where he has been run straight through, and the night shirt is profoundly stained in those two areas. The wounds are not slashes, but piercings, consistent with that of a rapier.

The bedding is also quite bloody and it, too, has two puncture holes corresponding to those in the merchant's chest. Based on what he can see, it appears that Merris was sleeping on his back and was stabbed in the chest straight through the blankets two times.

Finally, Thorfire examines the Merris's hands. The insides of his fingers are deeply cut and streaked with light rusty powder, suggesting he maybe grabbed the edge of the murder weapon after being struck. Amidst the blood and rust on his hands, Thorfire also notices tan-lines on six of the deceased's ten fingers. These stir a faint memory for Thorfire of seeing several gaudy rings on merchant's hands the night they first met. Judging by the tan-lines, he wore them often. But now those hands are naked except for the rust and blood.


OOC: Although a rapier can be a completely un-edged weapon, the wider definition also includes many styles that have some sort of edge (although they are still primarily used for stabbing, not slashing). We never got into the exact make of Lazaret's and Thorfire's particular weapons (nor do we need to), but the rusty rapier found by Tyus in the grove of trees does indeed have an edge.

In reply to DM (msg # 40):

Tyus, I am done here for now.  Let's get this body to your office so I can get to the tavern for a much overdue ale and dinner.

In reply to Thorfire Shortankard (msg # 41):

Yasha is current in the tavern. He is drinking ice cold water and getting his thoughts together.

Tyus and Thorfire haul the deceased body of Morlough Merris back to the constable's office. The halfling can't help but notice the pesky raven, sitting again atop the statue of Staal Stronghammer and staring at the duo as they transport the body.

"Thanks for your help, Thorfire. Ms. Pennington was really going to let me have it if I didn't remove this body. You're a life saver." As they part ways, Tyus stammers shifts uncomfortably in place before calling to the halfling. "EG... it's for Enoch Gwynne. 1175 EG... that was an inventory tag. He tags all the items in the armory with a number when they go into holding, then puts his initials in big fancy script and writes it in a log book."

Thorfire proceeds to the Trollip and Troll, catching Lazaret and Celador as they were getting  up to leave. They exchange some cursory notes before deciding the best plan is to get some sleep and discuss their options in the morning.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:26, Mon 04 Dec 2017.

Did Tyus tell Quincy/Thorfire what "EG" possible stands for?

Are Therarak and Yasha joining Celador, Lazaret and Thorfire for a long rest (and level up)?

Will Mattis reveal her secret recipe for Shepard's pie?

Tune in tomorrow to "The Mysteries of the Northlands" to find out!

In reply to Celador Qiris (msg # 44):

"Good morning friends! I am well rested and ready for breakfast. We have much to discuss. First, the initials EG. I'll bet it's Enis! I never liked him. I have no idea why he would kill Morris, but it must be him. Do we form a posse? Get a rope? How do we proceed?"

In reply to Celador Qiris (msg # 44):

I'm planning on levelling up at my earliest opportunity.

The next morning arrives and our heroes find themselves well rested and ready to take on another day (some more than others). Lazaret is the first to wander down to the main room of the Stronghammer Inn. A few travelers come an go through the area, some paying no mind to the tabaxi while others give the strange cat-man a nervous look as they pass, a response that he is growing accustomed to in this mostly human village.

One by one, the others filter down into the lobby to plan their next move.



OOC: Next steps are up to you. You can investigate more with or without the help of Tyus and the Mayor, you can return to the cave where the hooded man was, you can research more at the library, you can just hang out in the Trollip and Troll. Gwendelon's ETA is still 5 or 6 days out so there is plenty of time to do whatever.

That discussion can be done either here or in OOC thread.

Also OOC: Message # 43 has been updated with Tyus's explanation of 1175 EG. He promised Thorfire he'd tell him what it meant on the way back to the office, and being a man of his word, I updated the post to include that info.

P.S. Good guess, Lazaret.


 

In reply to DM (msg # 47):

"Wake up, friends! Morning is here and there are cages to be rattled and breakfasts to be eaten. To the constable's office! - Celador, I see you slept alone. Well. Uh. Confidence and compliments, sir. Maybe some flowers. I could serenade her if you...anyway."

Lazaret leads the party to the constable's office and kicks in the door.

"Enis! You have a lot of explaining to do. The murder weapon had your name on it. Where were you on the night of the foul event? That's means, opportunity, and motive. Motive mostly because you are kind of a dick."

"Ah Lazaret, you are too funny. You should really lay off the cat nip. We are not all so lucky as to be able to go lick ourselves." Celador comments as he shakes the remaining cobwebs from his head. He is feeling much better after a night's rest.

Celador follows to the constable's office and listens as Lazaret accuses Enoch.

"Now, now, Lazaret, just because the fellow is incompetent doesn't mean he can't do his job," he chimes in, " and just because he had motive doesn't make him guilty. We'll simple throw him in the jail until the good sister returns."

A thought crosses Celador's mind, "speaking of jail cell, is our friend in the hood still locked up? Maybe we should pay him a visit while we are locking up, Enis is it?"

As the heroes storm into the constable's office, they see Enoch hunched over a stack of papers at the desk. Nobody else is present at the moment. Enoch rolls his eyes when the tabaxi enters in full flourish and rolls them even further as the elf chimes in. On multiple occasions, he attempts to say something, but the other two make that impossible.


"E-noch," he replies, venomously. "And what, blessed Pelor tell us, makes you think you can just barge in here and charge me with a crime for which you were only yesterday arrested? Your boldness is rivaled only by your ability to annoy."

In reply to DM (msg # 50):

"In case you hadn't heard, we have been exacerbated of this crime. But, where were you on the night in question? Hmm?"

"Exacerbated, eh?" Enoch considers, spiteful as ever. "Well, congratulations on that. Young Tyus is a bit too forgiving, if you ask me... Nevertheless, the Mayor has seen it fit to put the boy in charge of this investigation, so until Gwendelon returns, we'll have to deal with his youthful missteps... as exacerbating as that may be.

"As for where I was the night in question, I was asleep... in my home... like all the rest of the law-abiding citizen of this village." He waves a flimsy hand at them.  (OOC: Lazaret and Thorfire, make a DC 10 Investigation roll) "If you'd like to register a formal accusation against me, you'll have to do it with the boy. He's presently at the armory doing an inventory of old junk."
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:20, Thu 07 Dec 2017.

In reply to DM (msg # 52):

"Were you sleeping with your alibi or just your flimsy hand?"

06:39, Today: Lazaret rolled 15 using 1d20.  Investigation of Enoch.

In reply to Lazaret (msg # 53):

Fingering his daggers, Thorfire locks eyes with Enoch.  Enoch is it...pray chance what is your last name?  It seems unlikely that there are two Enoch's in this town...Also, we would like to talk to the hooded man again, make it snappy we don't have all day.

13:37, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 21 using 1d20+2.  Intimidation.
13:37, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 10 using 1d20-1.  Investigation.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:42, Fri 08 Dec 2017.

"If by alibi, you mean my wife, then yes, I was sleeping with her."
Everyone ponders for a moment what poor, tortured soul could be stuck with someone the likes of the filmy-eyed guard seated in front of them.

OOC: Thorfire and Lazaret, you both have been at the murder scene and observed the rope hanging in front of the window there. Judging from Enoch's age (he looks a good 60 years old at the youngest) and general scrawniness,  you conclude there is no way he could have climbed up a rope into the 2nd story window of Morlough Merris.



Enoch visibly tenses at Thorfire's interrogtion. "G-Gwynn," he stutters, significantly less confident than only a moment before. "And I assure you, I am the only Enoch in Westbank. But what has that to do with anything?"



Enoch sighs with slight annoyance. "For Pelor's sake, don't rile him up. He was a total pain in the posterior all day after you left yesterday and he's finally quieted down. Silent, even. You go down there now and he's likely to-" He stops mid sentence. Nobody would have thought it possible even a moment ago, but they see the guard's pasty white complexion grow even more pale.

The chair tips over behind him as he stands and races (an awkward speed-walk, really) to the barred cellar door. Without a word he removes the bar, throws the door open and proceeds down the stairs into the torchlit prison below.

"Shit."

In reply to DM (msg # 55):

"Well, Thorfire, you've scared him. Is that what you were trying to do? I suppose there must be a privy down there. He can't seem to hold it."

I assume the words uttered from Enoch in the dungeon had and undertone of alarm and urgency.

Celador quickly raises a finger to his lips to quiet Lazaret as he withdraws his long sword and moves to the cellar door.

In reply to Celador Qiris (msg # 57):

Thorfire winks at Celador, draws his rapier, and quietly defends the stairs to the cells below.

18:49, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 15 using 1d20+5, rerolling ones. Steath.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:51, Mon 11 Dec 2017.

In reply to Thorfire Shortankard (msg # 58):

"Thorfire, wait! I know that you know how to get out of this jail and therefore it can't be very difficult. You go around to your special exit and I will go down with Enis."

19:55, Today: Lazaret rolled 17 using 1d20+5.  Stealth.

This message was last edited by the player at 01:56, Mon 11 Dec 2017.

In reply to Lazaret (msg # 59):

Good idea Laz. By the way, I think the goons name is Enoch... Thorfire sheathes his rapier and exits the front door.  Going to the back of the barracks,  he spies a convenient drain pipe and calmly and quietly climbs up to the roof to check out the chimney.

20:11, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 13 using 1d20+6, rerolling ones. Stealth.
20:13, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 25 using 1d20+6, rerolling ones. Acrobatics.
20:18, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 9 using 1d20-1, rerolling ones. Investigation

While he is on the roof, he also looks for the curious crow.

20:20, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 22 using 1d20+2, rerolling ones. Perception.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:22, Mon 11 Dec 2017.

Thorfire vaults nimbly up to the roof with a professional ease. Once there, he proceeds carefully toward the chimney, checking the rooftop for any signs of recent travel. Assuming someone left by this way, he left no sign.

Across the street to the south, perched in his usual spot atop the statue of Staal Stronghammer, the raven watches with what appears to be a casual interest.

Thorfire hops up onto the chimney and peers inside. He can't see down it very far, but the morning sun does reveal two long, deep, vertical gouges, one each along the northern and southern edges of the chimney's inside, running from the top down as far as his eyes can see along the edges before they disappear into darkness. Far below, he sees the floor of the dungeon lit by the torchlight below. Curiously, the grate that he yesterday removed, then immediately replaced before returning to his cell, is no longer positioned between him and the dungeon floor. It has been removed.

As he listens, he can hear Enoch cursing below.

"Shit," he reiterates for the seventh time as Lazaret descends the stairs. "The bastard's gone!"

At the bottom of the stairs, Lazaret sees that Malik's cell door is swung wide open. Enoch stands in the doorway, peering into the empty cell with arms raised over his head.

In the hallway between them, the grate for the overhead vent in the ceiling rests on the floor, leaning against the wall. Lazaret peers up the narrow vent and sees the sky above as well as Thorefire's head looking from atop the chimney down onto him. He surmises the chimney would be big enough to allow the halfling to climb up or down it, but a human would have great difficulty.

And yet, as Enoch only recently pointed out, there is no sign of Malik!

In reply to DM (msg # 61):

Celador! Guard the stairs. Enis, think! How long has he been quiet? He may still be here. Hiding or invisible, it's hard to say. Or he could have changed shape. I've met a few folks in my travels that could change shapes. They could turn into animals or mists or even other people. Damnedest thing.

Let's start poking our swords around. If he's invisible, soon he'll be invisible and bleeding.

Lazaret starts slashing his sword around in the open spaces and in some hiding spaces.

Enoch is so beside himself that he doesn't even bother correcting Lazaret's mis-pronunciation of his name.

"I got here at 5 am and he's been quiet that whole time."

Lazaret slashes at the empty air, making no contact with anything invisible or otherwise hidden. As he pokes about, he notices that three of four cells are empty, the 4th (across the hall from where Malik had been kept), had been used as a storage room. In that cell are several barrels and a variety of wooden crates, as well.

In reply to DM (msg # 63):

"Open this cell! We need to make sure he is not hiding."

Lazaret attempts to open the door. Once he is able, he goes in and starts tossing the storage area in an attempt to find an invisible or hiding Malik.

OOC: Apparently a 22 Perception isn't good enough to figure out what the f-ing raven is all about...

Hearing the conversation and listening to Lazaret swing his rapier like a dip shit, Thorfire quickly makes his way down the drain pipe and back down into the Dungeon.  He draw his rapier as he descends the stairs.

22:02, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 17 using 1d20+6.  Acrobatics.

Approaching Enoch with drawn rapier...Enoch, something is not right here.  Either you are a complete fool or think we are idiots.  First of all, you have access to the armory, thus access to the murder weapon.  The rope and grappling hook that was used for the murders escape is your equipment and now, somehow, under your nose, Malik escapes.  As for motive, you are working for the hooded man which is why you were so quick to blame us for the murder.  You better talk fast or you will end up in one of these cells.

22:13, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 9 using 1d20+2, rerolling ones.  Intimidation.

Thorfire springs off the rooftop with a flip, landing softly on his feet to the cheers of two young children walking past the office with their mother. Amused, the trio watches until Thorfire draws his rapier, at which time the mother gasps and shoos the children down the street and to their original business.

Thoreifre dodges Celedor on the staircase and, once in the dungeon, confronts Enoch with his alternate theory on the murder.

"You are right about two things, halfling," Enoch spits in reply. "First, I do think you are idiots. Right along with the mayor who was equally idiotic in setting you free yesterday. Second, there is something wrong here. The hooded man was locked in this cell the night of the murder and, like it or not, you are still the most likely suspect. So either you did it (which I think is still likely) or someone else set you up."

Lazaret, meanwhile, searches throughout the storage cell across the hall, but finds no sign of the hooded man. All of the crates in the room are closed except for one, which has one of the top slats removed and lying nearby on the floor. Inside the crate is clothing, the top layer of which is noticeably tussled. The clothes underneath the tussled first layer, however, are neatly folded.

OOC: Perception rolls for anyone in the dungeon may uncover another thing or two.

In reply to DM (msg # 66):

"What are these clothes here, Enis? You like to play dress up at work?" Lazaret inspects the clothing and searches Malik's cell for any clues.


06:38, Today: Lazaret rolled 17 using 1d20+6.  Perception.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:38, Wed 13 Dec 2017.

Enoch stares absently at the clothes sticking out from the crate, but has no sharp answer for Lazaret's question. Perhaps he does like to dress up. Or more likely, the thought of having to explain a completely empty dungeon to Sister Gwendelon upon her return is taking most of his attention.

OOC: Thorfire, in addition to a perception roll, make a DC 5 INT roll to remember something from yesterday about the crates as you went through them (or feel free to dig back through the threads, there's a clue in there somewhere).

In reply to DM (msg # 68):

Going over to Lazaret Thorfire whispers, Did you find any jewelry, rings and a necklace, in your search of the crates?

22:59, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 20 using 1d20+2.  Perception.

OOC: Worry not my good DM, a rogue never forgets where there may be easy treasure to be had...
This message was last edited by the player at 04:12, Thu 14 Dec 2017.

Celador watches as Thorefire comes back through the room and heads downstairs. He keeps an eye on the cellar door and the rest of the room.

He takes advantage of the distraction in the cellar to take a minute to look through the papers on Enoch's desk.


23:06, Today: Celador Qiris rolled 8 using 1d20-1.  investigation.

Thorfire and Lazaret conduct a thorough inspection of the dungeon while Enoch stares dumbfounded and considers the mess beginning to surround him.

Thorfire notices a broom in the corner of the makeshift supply room. He had seen it there before when searching for possible weapons. This time, he takes a closer look and notices a small pile of light colored dust and pebbles underneath it, matching the color of the stone that makes up the chimney. There are also two dull iron spikes laying atop a barrel nearby. He paid them little interest yesterday morning, but today he see the tips of the spikes are covered with a light dust of the same color as the chimney and the floor sweepings. Aside from the crate with the clothes hanging from it, the rest of the crates are unopened.

For his part, Lazaret finds a small amount of broken glass at the end of the hall as well as what looks like the stopper for a vial of some sort. Finally, on the bench of the cell where Malik was earlier imprisoned, there sits a vial of ink, a quill, and a parchment. It reads: Enjoy these final autumn days, Mayor Narr. Westbank will be destroyed in the coming weeks. And tell the halfling to watch his back. The wound he inflicted upon me will be repaid tenfold.


OOC: Sorry I ever doubted you, Thorfire.

While the investigation intensifies downstairs, Celador takes a look at the papers on Enoch's desk. There are many, covering bills, maintenance, complaints (one, he notes, expertly written by Hyacinth Moonstone on behalf of her previously imprisoned son), and even a report from yesterday regarding someone named Gar Greyshield, who notified the guard that his shop had been robbed of a particular piece of small, studded leather armor. Suitable for a child... or maybe a halfling. Estimated cost...50 gold pieces.

In total, there is nothing in the pile that casts suspicion on Enoch or any of the guard. The stack of papers appears to be the minutiae of running the village guard. Seeing it in this detail, the elf starts to appreciate why the Enoch is in such a foul mood most of the time.

In reply to DM (msg # 72):

Quietly to Thorfire, "I did not. But I'm sure you will."

"WHERE ARE YOU, MALIK?!!! I KNOW YOU ARE IN HERE SOMEWHERE!!!" Lazaret begins upending crates and knocking things all around. "Arrrrgh! Where is he?!"

After a few minutes destroying the storage areas and cells, Lazaret turns once agan to Enoch, "Enis! I'll bet he's upstairs under your desk!" He runs past Enoch making sure to bump him rather firmly and runs up the stairs. Once up top he begins rifling through Enoch's papers and opening drawers rather violently hoping to draw Enoch upstairs long enough for Thorfire to do what he does best.

20:10, Today: Lazaret rolled 19 using 1d20+6.  Performance.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:10, Fri 15 Dec 2017.

"For Pelor's sake, you crazy tabaxi, calm down!" Enoch chases Lazaret up the stairs. Celador hears the ruckus in time to neatly stack Enoch's papers in place on his desk. Lazeret then proceeds to the take neatly stacked papers and toss them about in a tornado of bureaucracy as the disheveled guard races toward him from the top of the stairs. "What are you doing?" he screams as he reaches the crazed cat-man. "Get away from there. Put those papers down."

With Lazaret's crazed performance now upstairs, Thorfire finds himself alone in the dungeon amidst a scattering of crates, barrels, and supplies.

In reply to DM (msg # 74):

"He's not under there. Where could he be? I am sure glad that I was not the responsible one here when this necromancer escaped. There will be hell to pay when the constable finds out. And when the mayor finds out. And when Sister Gwendelon finds out. How do you think he escaped? Since it's your hide they will go after, Enis, you better figure out how he escaped."

In reply to DM (msg # 74):

Thorfire digs under the clothes in the crate to see if the rings and necklace are still there.  If they are, he tries to discern if they may have been Morlough's rings.

17:37, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 8 using 1d20-1, rerolling ones

Still too overwhelmed to correct Lazaret on his name, Enoch slumps into the chair behind his desk and drops his face into his hands. "Oh by Pelor's golden beard," he mumbles to himself. "I'm too old for this." He looks up to Lazaret and Celador. "I have no idea how he escaped. I don't even know if he was down there when I arrived this morning. Traitlin had the watch before me. Said he checked on Malik at midnight. But how could he get out? The cell was locked. The door was barred." His face drops back into his hands and mumbles incoherently to himself.


In the dungeon, Thorfire digs through the entire small crate that previously contained the gem encrusted rings and ruby necklace. He finds nothing. The jewelry is gone. He remembers the items fairly well (a large, gaudy stone in the necklace to say the least) and he racks his halfling brain trying to remember what Merris was wearing the night he met him (DC15 intelligence check to remember since you only saw him the first night (when he attacked Lazaret) - others in the party saw him a couple nights later (while Thorfire was staking out the constable's office), so they might have a better chance of remembering exactly what Merris wore). Could they have been one in the same?

In reply to DM (msg # 77):

"Then where is Traitlin now? We must speak to him. You straighten this mess up. Really, you should be more organized. My friends and I will find out what he knows then track down this Malik. Tell your boss and your Good Sister that he will be meeting with Thorfire's justice this time."

09:12, Today: Lazaret rolled 6 using 1d20-1.  Intelligence - recalling what Merris was wearing.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:12, Sun 17 Dec 2017.

In reply to DM (msg # 77):

Thorfire racks his little brain, as usual, his roguish intellect in all things relating to jewelry on potential marks kicks in...

09:49, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 19 using 1d20+1, rerolling ones

OOC: Thorfire is -1 in intelligence, but proficient in intelligence saves. Thus, I wasn't sure what modifier to use.  Luckily it doesn't matter since his roll was so impressive.

"Traitlin went to the armory with Tyus. They're taking inventory of the items there, although I'm not sure either of them are smart enough to count. If he's not still there, he's probably on his way home."

Lazaret tries to recall his interactions with the late Morlough Merris. He remembers that the merchant did indeed have hands... at least he thinks he remembers hands... or were they more like hooves? No, it was his horse that had the hooves (OOC: Lazaret you can make another DC7 Int roll to remember something else that might be of use).

Thorfire, on the other hand, remembers the events of two nights ago vividly, his memory no doubt sharpened the moment he noticed Hyacinth Moonstone crying in the tavern (and also carrying a small pouch of coins that might be offered for helping her). As for Merris, who barged in shortly after that with a pair of thugs to shake down Lazaret, he did indeed wear rings. Six of them. Gem encrusted. And now that he thinks of it, they were just like those that he saw this morning in the crate. The crate whose slats pried off just a little easier than those on the other crates.

Celador is taken aback by the tabaxi bounding up the stairs and the sudden whirlwind of the papers that he had so neatly stacked as to not rouse suspicion.

"What's going on?! Did I hear you say that the hooded man is missing?" Celador exclaims. "Enock, how did this happen?"

Celador thrusts his longsword back into the sheath with an air of frustration.

In reply to Celador Qiris (msg # 81):

"He's got more than just a mess up here, Celador. Let's go to the armory and to Traitlin's home."

"Enis, draw us a map showing where Traitlin lives. Write it on the back of this paper here." Lazaret grabs a piece of paper from the middle of Enoch's pile spilling the others on the floor once again.

Enoch looks back and forth between the papers on the floor and the tabaxi who put them there. For a moment, his pale face flushes to an extent that makes viewers worry his head may explode. With a deep breath, however, the guard regains at least a little bit of his composure.

00:53, Today: DM rolled 15 using 1d20.  Enoch CHA check to re-gain his composure (DC12).

"Now see here, tabaxi," he starts. "Traitlin lives in the middle of nowhere. Half way to the Wildwood. I don't know where his house is, or if he even has a house. Probably lives under some big rocks out there. Tyus probably knows." He takes a deep deliberate breath. "Now get out of here before I decide to arrest you for something."

In reply to DM (msg # 83):

To Enoch, "You, sir, have the temperament of a syphilitic hobgoblin with a cockatrice crawling up his arse. But, since you have so much work left to do here, we will leave you to it."

"Celador, to the armory to seek those who let the hooded man run free."

Lazaret leaves the constable's and heads to the armory giving Enoch one last nasty look. On his way he has a good think about what Merris was wearing the night he accosted the misunderstood jaguar man in the bar. "What was he wearing? For ten days I rode through the land with the insufferable prig. I recall that he had many shiny things on his hands, I have one now..."

09:52, Today: Lazaret rolled 10 using 1d20.  Intelligence - recalling what Merris was wearing.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:52, Sat 23 Dec 2017.

In reply to Lazaret (msg # 84):

Thorfire joins Laz at the armory.

In reply to Thorfire Shortankard (msg # 85):

Laz and Thorfire are still at the armory,  waiting for something to happen.

In reply to Thorfire Shortankard (msg # 86):

"Good day, Thorfire. I trust you had time to do what you do in the cells? Find anything? I've also been thinking, what all was Mr. Morris wearing on the caravan? I can't recall. I do have this ring, but I can't think of the rest. Do you have any memory at all? He wore many shinies on his fingers, I do recall that. There was a day or two when that was all I could think of. I don't suppose you managed to remove any of these from his person?"

In reply to Lazaret (msg # 87):

He was wearing 5 or 6 rings which were in the crate with the clothes.  The rings and a necklace were there yesterday but are gone now...there were grooves in the chimney which was likely how the hooded man escaped, but he probably needed help from the top. What have you found here?
This message was last edited by the player at 03:29, Wed 27 Dec 2017.

Thorfire and Lazaret arrive, albeit at slightly different times, at the armory. The stone building stands as a bit of an afterthought to the north of the constable's office. As far as armories go, both Lazaret and Thorfire have seen more impressive examples in the south. The building is rectangular, with a main door in the middle of the westward facing wall. That door enters upon a small (10' by 10') foyer occupied by a rusty suit of plate mail holding a flag consisting of a white cross sectioning the dark blue field into four equal quadrants, the upper left of which contains a single white star.

Beyond the rusty flag-bearer, the hallway comes to a tee. To the north, it extends about 30 feet to a stone wall. Along the hall, three on either side, are wooden doors, reinforced with iron straps. All are closed. To the south are six more of the same kind of door (three on each side), however the furthest door on the right (west side of the hall) is open and from beyond it comes a chorus of clanks and clunks.

From the doorway, Thorfire recognizes what Tyus described to him earlier as "a pile of crap" or, more euphemistically, an assortment of discarded equipment from various sources. To each piece, tied by a small loop of string, is a paper tag. Standing amid the pile, with a ledger and quill in hand, is Tyus. The normally amiable guard looks a bit overwhelmed(OOC perception or investigation DC12 for more clues as to why), but nonetheless attempts a friendly greeting upon seeing his visitors.

In reply to DM (msg # 89):

(My passive perception is 16)

"Tyus, what are you up to? Don't you know that there is an escaped necromancer roaming the streets? Enis let him go. Or maybe it was you. Or Traitlin. Really, who can be sure around here?

"And what is all this mess of junk? Between you and Enis, it's a wonder anything gets accomplished around this town."

Lazaret, once again, starts fumbling through the piles making as much noise and commotion as possible leaving Thorfire to go about his own business.

Celador idly walks along with Lazaret and Thorfire to the armory, truly unsure what exactly is going on around this town. He'd like to think that if he risked his life catching a necromancer, said necromancer would stay caught while he was out risking his life to save the town from some rather nasty orcs.

He looks at the tabaxi and then back at the halfling, and then back at the tabaxi.

-...what an odd cast of characters I seemed to have found here in Westbank. I wonder what is going on back in Glenvendale? I bet Varis and Arganomel are wondering what happened to me. Ha. They're probably mad that I didn't pay them back for those pints of ale. Oh, well...-

At the armory, Celador takes a peek inside but chooses to remain outside while Lazaret goes in to poke around.


I am going to assume that if the DM asks for a perception roll, I should roll for perception.

23:05, Today: Celador Qiris rolled 8 using 1d20+3.  Perception.

Celador sees Tyus.

Tyus  stares at Lazaret. "The hooded man escaped? How? And who is Enis?" He stands for a second, dumbfounded. "Ah crap. Sister Gwendelon's going to have a fit if we don't find him."

"This room is full of items that have come into the possession of the guard when someone is arrested. It's mostly crap, but after we discovered the rope at the murder scene had been tagged, we came here and found that someone had picked the lock and rummaged through all of this. The mayor told me to check it against Enoch's logbook to see what else's missing, but whoever was in here left a total mess! I've been here all morning and I still haven't finished."

Tyus holds out his arms in protest. "Whoa whoa whoa. Don't mix up these piles. I'm still going through this stuff." Seeing the usual racket in progress, Thorfire gives a quick scan of the room while Tyus is distracted and sees (as Tyus would put it) a lot of crap. Nothing looks particularly valuable, however he spots one item in the entire mess of items that has no tag attached to it: a small stoppered vial sits on the floor near one of the larger piles.

In reply to DM (msg # 92):

"Seriously, Tyup, you are making a bigger mess out of this than even Enis could. Here, let me help. This is a 'rusty sword' which starts with an 'r' so it should go in this pile with the 'red shields'. Now this 'greasy chain' goes with? You know this, Tyup! The 'garbage daggers' over here. You are getting the hang of it now. Very good. So where would this 'fowl mace' go? With the 'funky armor' or with the 'filthy helmets'? You really need a better system..."

Lazaret does his best to keep Tyus' attention away from the glass vial and Thorfire's sticky fingers.

"Tyus! Wait. We are wasting precious time here. The hooded man! Where is he? You must find him now. Go! Go! Go!"

12:10, Today: Lazaret rolled 14 using 1d20+8.  Persuasion - get Tyus to leave.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:11, Thu 28 Dec 2017.

In reply to Lazaret (msg # 93):

Thorfire quietly grabs the vial while Tyus is distracted. Turning his back to the pair, he investigates his new find.

18:56, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 19 using 1d20-1. Investigation

He slips the vial into an inner pocket. Laz,  let the young man do his job.  Tyus, were you on duty last night? Did you hear and unusual sounds from the dungeon?

Lazaret has little difficulty turning Tyus away from the vial while Thorfire plucks it from the ground and inspects it unnoticed. The vial is empty except for a few drops in the bottom. Thorfire concludes it was a potion of some sort, however there is little left to determine its original contents (DC 20 arcana check. A professional may be able to give you more info for a price.).

Tyus does his best to explain to Lazaret that he can't move things between the done and undone piles or he will lose track of his task. Fortunately for the young guard, Thorfire speaks up.

Tyus sighs. "I was not on duty last night. Traitlin was. I started at sunrise. Mayor Naar sent me over here." His eyes brighten as he flips backward through Enoch's ledger. "And guess what I found in here? Item 548. Rapier. Acquired two winters ago. But it's nowhere in the pile. Nowhere. I've searched the whole thing three times, and it's not in here! Item 548 is the murder weapon. It has to be!"

In reply to DM (msg # 95):

"Is Caitlin the one that lives out in the forest? Enis didn't know where. I guess he doesn't get invited to too many game nights. Not surprising. Where do we find Caitlin? Tell us now. Maybe he is harboring the hooded man!"

"It's Traitlin," Tyus corrects. "And do you really think he might be harboring the hooded man? Anyway, he lives west of town. He's got a little shack about an hour's walk from here. I'd show you myself, but I've got to finish going through this inventory to see if anything else is missing. Plus we still don't know who killed the merchant and Mayor Naar says if we don't have somebody arrested by the time Sister Gwendelon gets back, he might end up in the prison himself."

OOC: Tyus provides directions that should be easy enough to follow should you wish to pay Traitlin a visit.

In reply to DM (msg # 97):

Perhaps we should pay the goliath a visit...or perhaps go back to the hooded man's cave and see what else is there. I seem to recall that we didn't explore the whole cave.

In reply to DM (msg # 97):

"Then we are off to Caitlin's. If he did let the hooded man out, then we may have solved two mysteries at once.

Let's go, gentlemen."

In reply to Lazaret (msg # 99):

Wait a minute,  before we leave town, I need to interview every living soul in this pathetic village..how long do you think that might take? Perhaps a 10 day?

In reply to Thorfire Shortankard (msg # 100):

"Keep dreaming, little man. We can talk along the way if it is conversation you desire. But remember, the faster we find Caitlin and the hooded man, the sooner you get to kill one or both of them."

In reply to Lazaret (msg # 101):

I also need to further examine the body and perform an autopsy to determine the exact time and manner of the merchant's death.

In reply to Thorfire Shortankard (msg # 102):

"He got stabbed. You know what a stab wound looks like, right? And he died at night. Now let's go."

In reply to Lazaret (msg # 103):

I'm not leaving without Celador, if we don't take him with us he might get in trouble with the wench at the tavern.

In reply to Thorfire Shortankard (msg # 104):

"I think he already 'got her in trouble'."

With Tyus's directions in hand, Thorfire and Lazaret make the journey west to Traitlin's home. After about an hour's walk along the road, they come to a large stone where they turn northward, off the trail and over some hills. From there, they can see a couple other landmarks identified by the young guard. Over another couple hills, they find a modest log shack with smoke rising from the chimney. In front stands the muscular goliath, presently chopping wood with a large ax.

OOC: Traitlin is not armored. He chops wood with a large ax in front of the shack. You are on top of the hill looking down on him. The cabin is in the modest valley below, about 140 feet away. He does not appear to notice you.

In reply to DM (msg # 106):

Quietly to the rogue, "You go wide left. I'll go right. Let's get between him and his house. Let me do the talking."

Lazaret turns to sneak around then turns back to Thorfire. "Become one with your surroundings!"

Thorfire receives bardic inspiration. (1)


15:23, Today: Lazaret rolled 24 using 1d20+5.  Stealth.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:24, Mon 01 Jan 2018.

"Ha. You guys are incredibly funny. Or maybe just jealous. Either way you should form a traveling troupe of minstrels and tour the countryside with your hilareous sideshow. Like I've told you, my interest in Mattis is purely culinary. The way that woman handles meat is like poetry in motion. And we are talking substantial cuts of meat; full tenderloins mind you, not petit fillets." Celador replies, giving Thorfire a nudge.

"And what happened to the little chap with the terrible tasting healing draughts? Or that goofy sounding guy with the little blue companion? They must be late sleepers. Hard to keep up with the likes of you two." he comments as they walk along to find the cabin in the woods.

Upon reaching the cabin and seeing the goliath, Celador pauses and surveys the scene.



"Good plan. I'll keep watch up here. Too many people at once may frighten him. I'll be ready with my bow in case things get out of hand."

Traitlin continues to chop wood while the three take their positions. His chopping block stands 20 feet straight out from the front door. The goliath has his back to the south facing door. The cabin itself is small, about 20 feet east to west and 12 feet north to south. There is a window on both the east and west walls. The door is in the middle of the southern wall, with a window on either side. Wood is neatly piled to the left (west) of the door.

OOC: Traitlin has a passive perception of 13. Beating that (Laz already did) will allow you to get to either side of the cabin without him seeing. An 18+ (also done by Laz) will allow you to get right next to him unobserved if you'd like.

In reply to DM (msg # 109):

Thorfire quietly sneaks up the left side...he contemplates severing Traitlin spine with a sneak attack just for fun, but decides to wait for Lazaret to do (or say) something stupid.

10:56, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 19 using 1d20+8, rerolling ones.  Stealth.

In reply to Thorfire Shortankard (msg # 110):

Lazaret sits comfortably on the woodpile. His hand is near his rapier.

"Traitlin. We need to talk. You're pretty energetic for someone who just worked overnight. Did you sleep through your whole shift?"

Traitlin turns, startled by the tabaxi seated behind him. "Wha - where did you come from?"

He sets his axe down next to the chopping block and wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead. "And why are you here?"

In reply to Traitlin Uthudar (msg # 112):

"Mayor Naar sent me. Tell me what happened during your watch last night."


08:50, Today: Lazaret rolled 2 using 1d6.  Bardic Inpiration.

08:50, Today: Lazaret rolled 13 using 1d20+8.  Deception. (Total of 15)
This message was last edited by the player at 14:51, Wed 03 Jan 2018.

Traitlin rolls his eyes, shrugs his shoulders, and explains the events of the night.

"Not much to say. I started at sunset. The prisoner was whining about something to eat as soon as I got there. Fed him a couple hours later, which was nice because he didn't talk for 5 minutes. He continued to be a pain in the ass until about midnight, at which point he fell asleep.

"I checked in again a few hours after that. Still sleeping. Enoch and the Mayor arrived at sunrise this morning. I went over to the armory to check in on Tyus, then I headed back here."

"So why all the questions? And what does last night have to do with who killed Morlough Merris? I mean, he was already dead by then, wasn't he?

OOC: Sunset is about 7:30pm and sunrise about 8:00am.

In reply to Traitlin Uthudar (msg # 114):

"So you left him alone and unchecked for five hours? I'll bet Enis would not be too happy to know that. Were you asleep or otherwise occupied?"

While questioning the goliath, Lazaret peeks in the cabin windows to see if anyone else is there.

09:38, Today: Lazaret rolled 17 using 1d20+6.  Perception - cabin.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:39, Thu 04 Jan 2018.

In reply to Lazaret (msg # 115):

OOC: Go get 'em Columbo!

"Look, what's with the inquisition? I checked him in the middle of the night. The door's barred. What more do you want? You want us to sit down there and play dice with him so he doesn't get bored? Little sniveling twit like him is lucky to still be alive if he's guilty of what you say he is."

He sits on his chopping block and mops a bit more sweat from his forehead.

"So I heard you all appointed yourselves special investigators for the village of Westbank. Congratulations on that. Gwendelon will be thrilled. But I thought you were trying to figure out who murdered the merchant. What's that got to do with this?"

The cabin is neat and sparsely furnished inside. One plate on the table, one glass near the pitcher of water, and a single chair near the fire. Lazaret sees no sign of the hooded man.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:21, Fri 05 Jan 2018.

In reply to Traitlin Uthudar (msg # 117):

"You were on watch when he escaped. There's no way he got out without help. You must have heard something.

"And we have hardly appointed ourselves as anything. We have no desire to be frontier detectives and solve your crimes. Your bosses accused us of a crime we did not commit and we have little choice but to defend ourselves. We would much rather be out seeking our fortune."

In reply to Lazaret (msg # 118):

Thorfire is still waiting in the shadows for something to happen.  If nothing happens soon, he might just eviscerate Traitlin out of sheer boredom.

"The little twit escaped? How? The bar was never removed from the door!" The Goliath seems genuinely surprised. He stands, dumbfounded for a moment, then heads toward the cabin, waving Lazaret along. "Gwendelon will not be happy if we don't find him before she returns. Has anyone informed the Mayor?"

In reply to Traitlin Uthudar (msg # 120):

"I have no idea where the mayor is. He shows up at the most inopportune times and hassles innocent people. How did he even get to be mayor? I certainly didn't vote for him.

"What are we doing in your cabin? If there's a tiger skin rug in here, I swear to Pelor that I will cast Thunderwave twice up your ass."

Lazaret follows Traitlin into the cabin. He gives Celador and Thorfire a shrug of his shoulders on the way in. (He also keeps an eye out for shiny things.)
This message was last edited by the player at 03:32, Mon 08 Jan 2018.

In reply to Lazaret (msg # 121):

Thorfire thinks to himself, what the hell, now the Tabaxi wants to thunderwave a goliath up the ass...this shit is getting crazy.

The cabin is a single room, sparsely furnished with a two wooden chairs and a small table, a stove, and a bed (and no tiger skin rug). There is a small, tapped barrel in the corner of the room and he fills two mugs, offering one to the tabaxi and drinking from the other.

"You are interesting, tabaxi. I thought I was unusual for Westbank, but compared to you, I might as well be another passive aggressive human who smiles when you're looking and sneers when you're not."

He sits, offering the other chair to his guest. "As for the mayor, he is a good man, but he certainly isn't much of a Constable. We'd be better off with Enoch in charge when Gwendelon departs like this, but nobody asked me."

He takes another swig from his mug. "Again I ask, if that sniveling ass escaped, how did he get past the door? I swear to you it did not open on my watch. Plus he was locked in his cell. Were there any clues?"

In reply to Traitlin Uthudar (msg # 123):

"Never too early for ale. Thank you.

"His cell was still locked, but there were some odd scratches in the chimney. Perhaps he had help. Perhaps he used magic."

Lazaret looks around a bit trying to see if anything seems out of place or offers any insight at all. (06:38, Today: Lazaret rolled 10 using 1d20+6.  Perception (passive = 16)- cabin.)

"We both should get back to town. The mayor will want to hear what you have to say and we need to find a murderer for some reason."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:42, Tue 09 Jan 2018.

In reply to Traitlin Uthudar (msg # 123):

Thorfire sneaks into the cabin near the goliath in case trouble is brewing and he secretly wishes for trouble.

11:23, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 6 using 1d6, rerolling ones.  Bardic Inspiration.
11:22, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 11 using 1d20+8, rerolling ones.  Stealth.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:26, Mon 08 Jan 2018.

"That twit was scrawny, but there's no way he could've climbed the chimney by himself. It's hardly any bigger than he is. Someone could've pulled him up with a rope, I suppose, but there's a gate over the access point in the dungeon. He could've been no bigger than a mouse to fit through that." He shrugs his shoulders. "Maybe you're right. Maybe he was transformed into a mouse by way of magic."


Traitlin rolls his eyes and sighs. "Well, who needs sleep. I suppose you're right."

Lazaret's review of the cabin raises no red flags. The only suspicious thing in the entire building is the halfling, who has secretly stepped inside without the goliath seeing him.

In reply to Traitlin Uthudar (msg # 126):

After convincing the goliath to have one more cup of ale, Lazaret and Traitlin head back to town to find the mayor.

In reply to Lazaret (msg # 127):

As Traitlin rises from his chair and turns to the door, Thorfire coughs subtlety, catching the goliath by surprise.  Good morning Traitlin, shall we be on our way back to town to meet the mayor?

Traitlin literally jumps back when he sees Thorfire leaning comfortably against a wall near the door. "Who... how did- You know what, never mind. Let's get back to the mayor." The goliath shakes his head and plod out the door.

Celador joins the group outside and the four of them make good time back to Westbank.

In a little over an hour's time, Celador, Thorfire, and Lazaret return to the constable's office with Traitlin. The area is busier. Enoch is there scowling at a few younger guards, still trying to complete paperwork of one kind or another.

Downstairs, the mayor is standing at the base of a ladder which reaches up inside the chimney. "Traitlin, good. I'm glad you're here. We've got a real mess on our hands. Sister Gwendelon won't like the looks of this I'm afraid."

He turns to Lazaret, Celador, and Thorfire. "And I've given you more than enough opportunity to escape, yet here you are. I suspect that means I was correct in releasing you from these cells yesterday. So I've done at least one thing right in the past 36 hours."

He holds a pair of pitons in his hand. "These were found sitting on a barrel in the store room. Covered with dust from the chimney. The chimney is gouged along the inside. They must have something to do with how he broke out, but if so, then how come they're in here? And who swept up the dust?"

A guard comes down the ladder with a torch in hand. "The gouges run the whole length of the chimney, sir. Two solid lines from bottom to top."

The mayor shrugs his shoulders. "And then we have the broken glass over here by the wall and this little note from his cell: Enjoy these final autumn days, Mayor Narr. Westbank will be destroyed in the coming weeks. And tell the halfling to watch his back. The wound he inflicted upon me will be repaid tenfold. "

He looks upward in frustration. "Pelor help us! We have a murderer at large, an escaped prisoner, and a break in at the armory and all we have for clues are broken glass and some chimney dust?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:20, Wed 10 Jan 2018.

In reply to DM (msg # 130):

"You do have a mess on YOUR hands, Mr. Mayor. Tell you what. My friends and I will go over and have some breakfast with Celador's uh, barmaid? What do I call her now? You and your men figure out how this necromancer escaped and where he may have gotten off to. We will put our heads together and see if we can solve the murder of Mr. Morris.

"I strongly suggest that you find someone expert in the ways of divination and majicks. Perhaps this hooded asshole had help from a caster of some sorts. I do believe, personally, that he had help from one of you lot."

Lazaret gives Tyus a long glare to see how he reacts. (15:58, Today: Lazaret rolled 8 using 1d20+3.  Insight - Tyus' reaction.)

To his friends, "Come. Let's get something to eat and discuss our next move here. We may have to look for a little bird that seemed to show up when we brought Hoodie back with us. I hope you have a straight arrow ready, Celador. You're a hell of a shot!"

Lazaret inspires Celador hoping that he won't miss the raven.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:59, Wed 10 Jan 2018.

"Why you little asshole," Traitlin barks. "What makes you think you can come in here and accuse us of helping him?"

OOC: Tyus isn't at the office yet, so you can't read his reaction.

The Goliath takes a step toward Lazaret, but the mayor steps in between them. "Calm down, Traitlin," he pleads. "He's entitled to his theory, just like we were entitled to ours. Hopefully his is as wrong as our initial one. We'll get nowhere fighting among ourselves.

"As for magic users, there are few in Westbank. Brother Walword is capable of detecting magic in a general sense. But if you need something specific, then we may have to send for crazy old Dav."

The party heads back upstairs and to the door just as Tyus, weary from his inventory exercise, appears. "I've been through that entire mess," he sighs. "Everything. And according to Enoch's book, we're missing a rapier, a hook and rope, a thin metal headband, and a pair of gloves."

"Then there was also a glass vial in the room that wasn't noted in the book... but after I was done, I couldn't find it any more."
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:32, Thu 11 Jan 2018.

Celador cracks a small smile at the exchage between the goliath and the tabaxi, -...the cat's ability to rub so many people the wrong way is impressive...- he thinks to himself.



"Yes Laz, let's leave the local authorities to do their business while we find something to eat, I am feeling a bit peckish," the elf says while heading toward the door.

Once they are outside the constable's office, Celador comments "did either of you catch the name of the merchant we met on our way back to town? He seemed to have a bone to pick with Merris. Speaking of picking a bone, I wonder what Mattis is up to?"

In reply to Celador Qiris (msg # 133):

"We never got his name. He could not have done the murder so far from town. He could have hired someone I suppose."

In reply to Lazaret (msg # 134):

As the crew heads back to the tavern, Thorfire looks for the damn raven.  Laz, if you see the raven, perhaps we should try to catch it.  It might be someone's familiar.

10:06, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 5 using 1d20+2, rerolling ones.  Perception. (Passive Perception 12)

He thinks he sees the statue
This message was last edited by the player at 16:08, Thu 11 Jan 2018.

"No, I didn't catch his name either. Had I know that a man would show up dead maybe I would have asked," Celador continues, "but if there was one person in town who would spit on the ground at the mention of Mr. Merris' name, there must be others. It's either that or head back on the road to find the necromancer, he's probably hiding in his cave with the other rats"

Just throwing out other options that haven't been brought up yet. I'm at a loss. Not much of a Hardy boy.

The party returns to the Trollip and Troll to review the day's findings. Tyus later stops by to inform them that the mayor has sent him to fetch Crazy Old Dav, a hermit who lives in a scraggly woods about a half day's ride to the west. "The mayor says Old Dav has a nose for magic, that he can tell if someone's been charmed or stuff like that. Can also identify items, but it's expensive. Anyway, I leave in the morning and expect to have the old codger back in town by nightfall."

The next morning, the heroes inquire about the old guard whom they met on their way back from the hooded man's cave a few days ago. Locals say his name is Woodward, and classify him as grumpy, but far from dangerous. OOC: it was a good idea thinking of him. Rather than lead you down that dead end, I'm going to say that you talked to enough people to convince yourself that Woodward is in no way associated with the murder or with Malik's escape.

In other developments:
1. A farmer from a mile up the northern road reported a horse and saddle stolen from him the night before last.

2. Gar Greyshield, the local blacksmith, is said to be "hotter than his own forge" regarding a certain suit of studded leather armor that was stolen from his shop. He claims Thorfire took it, but out of respect for Sam Fletcher (the bar owner) has refrained from charging into the Trollip and Troll demanding payment.

3. The raven continues to monitor Westbank from atop the statue of Staal Stronghammer. Upon seeing the heroes, he flies from his perch to the top of the chimney on the constable's office, cawing the whole time.

4. Bobbin stops by to check in on Cornelius.

5. Kathel buys a round for the table as a thanks for their assistance yesterday

6. The mayor also stops in, looking more stressed than usual, and asks the party to join him at the office in the morning. While hopeful that Crazy Old Dav may be able to discover something not yet known, he would like the investigative help of the heroes, as well.

OOC: Characters are free to do whatever they'd like today. If I don't hear from anyone, we can fast forward to the next morning.

This message was last edited by the GM at 07:41, Fri 12 Jan 2018.

In reply to DM (msg # 137):

Luckily we have a fast forward button.  --->

In reply to Thorfire Shortankard (msg # 138):

Lazaret casts invisibility on himself and climbs up to catch the raven. "There's more to this damn bird than meets the eye."

Lazaret sneaks unseen from the Trollip and Troll to the park and the statue. Unseen, that is, to everyone but the mysterious raven. The bird stares directly at the tabaxi as soon as he steps into the park. He caws cautiously at first, flaps his wings a few times while still perched on Staal Stronghammer's stone head, then finally takes flight before Lazaret gets too close. He flies directly to the chimney on the constable's office and caws repeatedly from there, always three times, followed by a pause, followed by another three caws, all the while staring at Lazaret.

The caws aren't threatening, but seem to be made with a certain sense of urgency (DC: 15 animal handling will tell you more).

When the party arrives at the office the next morning, it is already occupied by the mayor (standing with arms folded), Enoch (sniveling at his desk and shuffling papers), and Traitlin (leaning against the wall). After a few minutes of greeting and small talk, Tyus arrives with a strange halfling in tow, shuffling behind him and muttering quietly to himself as they enter.

The halfling stands about 3 feet tall. His face is wrinkled and dominated by a massive, crooked, mushroom of a nose and a pair of mismatched eyes. One brown, which seems to look at where his nose is pointing, and one blue, which seems to dart around uncontrollably. His hair is thick, silver, and curled. He wears tattered clothing that includes an ill fitting red cape and several mismatched small pouches on his belt. There is no doubt this must be Crazy Old Dav.

Working with Dav proves to be a bit of a task for the mayor. The mysterious halfling first demands breakfast, which Tyus delivers from the Trollip and Troll. Dav devours the food, then falls asleep and it takes Traitlin a good five minutes of shaking to wake him. After a brief negotiation about lunch, the halfling finally agrees to get to work.

At the mayor's request, everyone descends into the dungeon. The mayor inquires with Dav about seeing if there are any remnants of magic anywhere in the room, including people.

Dav closes his eyes, bows his head, and begins to mumble some words, waving his arms in a wizardly fashion. From time to time, his crazy blue eye opens and darts around the room. After a minute, his head rises and he looks around the room.

He first approaches Enoch and grabs him by the hands. "Hmmmmm," he mumbles. "N-no. No ma-magic this guy. No ch-ch-charmed. N-no been ch-charmed."

He then moves to Traitlin and repeats the analysis. "Ooooo, b-big and t-t-tall. But no ma-m-magic. No magic no charmed."

To Tyus. "No magic no ch-charm."

When he gets to the mayor, he holds his hand and then looks very closely at his ring. "Yes, Dav," the mayor concedes. "You are correct. This ring was a gift from the elves. It is magic, although I'd appreciate if that stay between just the lot of us down here."

Dav gives the mayor a long look with his good eye. "No ch-charm. No been charmed."

One by one, the crazy-eyed halfling passes by each character in the dungeon and declares each one to have not been charmed. He does, however, successfully identify Celador's magic arrows, the potion of water breathing, and the gem of elemental control (to which he gives a coo of excitement). In an interesting moment, he pulls Cornelius from Lazaret's backpack, admires it for several seconds, but finally concludes "No ch-charmed. No m-m-magic."

Finally, just as the mayor is starting to usher everyone back up the stairs, the old halfling stops, walks backward down the hall to the space between cells three and four, and closes his eyes. He crouches down and picks up a tiny fragment from the ground. A piece of glass. "Is magic." He announces. With eyes open and crazy blue eye darting faster than ever, he examines the floor and picks up another tiny fragment of glass. "Is magic."

Dav repeats this process about 25 times, each time picking up a tiny piece of shattered glass and saying "Is magic."
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:50, Sat 13 Jan 2018.

In reply to DM (msg # 140):

"What are you trying to tell me, you creepy thing? I'll follow you."

Lazaret follows the raven to the chimney to see what it is trying to tell him.

07:39, Today: Lazaret rolled 18 using 1d20+3.  Animal Handling.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:40, Sat 13 Jan 2018.

The raven flaps its wings eagerly as the invisible Lazaret approaches. Once on the roof, the raven repeats his call, cawing three times, but this time moving his head demonstratively with each squawk. He moves his beak from the chimney to the sky on the first caw, then from the sky back to the inside of the chimney on the second caw, and finally from chimney to sky again on the third caw. He repeats this process several times.

Lazaret concludes that the raven is "speaking" to him with slightly different tones from one squawk to the next, but the tabaxi is not sufficiently fluent in raven to deduce exactly what the subtle differences mean. If only there was someone who could translate his squawks and caws.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:45, Mon 15 Jan 2018.

In reply to DM (msg # 143):

Lazaret hustles down to find the others.

"We need to find Mrawk. No time to explain!"

Lazaret hustles out hoping that the other will follow. He races out of town to search for his Kenku friend.

In reply to DM (msg # 141):

Thorfire asks the crazy old bat, You say the glass shards are magical, does it look like they came from some sort of potion vial?

The hooded man presumably escaped by climbing up the chimney, do you detect any magic up there or in the cell with the crates and barrels?
This message was last edited by the player at 18:36, Mon 15 Jan 2018.

The crazy halfling mumbles to himself for a few moments. "G-glass is m-m-m-m-magic." He pauses and hums quietly to himself. "Po-po-potion?" A smile slowly creeps across his face. "Y-y-y-es! P-potion is m-magic. Is ma-m-maaaaagic potion!"

In response to Thorfire's next question, Crazy Old Dav, with great effort, climbs atop a barrel, slowly gets to his feet, then stares up into the chimney. He sways back and forth, humming to himself while pointing at various spots along its inside. "N-n-nothing up there ma-ma-magic. Nooooo m-magic."

The tabaxi's entrance is as surprising as his exit.

"What?" the mayor asks while staring to the others for an explanation.
"No idea." Tyus responds, rushing after Lazaret out the door.
"Who the hell is Mrawk?" Traitlin asks.
Enoch looks up from his desk long enough to observe the feline thorn in his side, grumbles, then buries his nose back in the day's paperwork.

Still standing on the barrel, Crazy Old Dav hums a few bars to himself then adds his own analysis. "That c-c-cat is c-c-craaaazyyyyy!"

I am confused, has Lazaret created a rift in the space time continuum? Are we at risk of future Lazaret running into a past version of himself? The question of course is, if he does, will he insult him and pronounce his name wrong?

OOC: I exercised a little artistic license: Celador and Thorfire joined the mayor and guards in the morning while Lazaret took a little detour on the roof. Tyus arrived shortly after Celador and Thorfire, bringing the crazy old halfling wizard with him. As that conversation happened, Lazaret completed his own conversation with the bird on the roof and then barged in on everyone else.

As a side note, the ramifications of a meeting between future and past Lazarets is scary to say the least. I mean, if there were actually two of him, what chance would the rest of us have to get a word in?

In reply to DM (msg # 148):

Maybe he would sing himself to sleep with a gay Tabaxi lulliby!

Lazaret rushes out the door with Tyus close behind. As the tabaxi scans the area for signs of the raven man, Tyus also looks, but with a lack of certainty. "Who exactly is Mrawk?"

In time, the mayor, the goliath, and eventually even the crazy old halfling join the group on the road in front of the constable's office. "What on earth is this all about?" the mayor inquires. "Who is Mrawk and what does he have to do with anything?"

Skill challange to find Mrawk!
This is a DC 20 survival or perception roll made by whomever you choose.
All other characters can add to main roll as follows.
   +1 for a perception/survival roll of 10 or higher.
   +2 for a perception/survival roll of 15 or higher.
   +3 for a perception/survival roll of 20 or higher.

You can also try to persuade each of the guards to help (allowing each to apply their own bonus as described above to the main roll).
   Tyus will assist on a persuasion roll of 5 or better.
   Traitlin will assist on a persuasion roll of 10 or better.
   The mayor will assist on a persuasion roll of 10 or better.
   Enoch will assist on a persuasion roll of 20 or better.

Finally, there are 5 roads leading out of Westbank (N, E, S, W, and NW). If you choose the correct road, you gain another +3. Wrong road? -3.

In reply to Taylin Naar (msg # 151):

"There he is!"

17:49, Today: Lazaret rolled 26 using 1d20+6.  Perception - Finding Mrawk.

It has been some time since they've seen him, but Lazaret spots the party's mysterious raven man perched in one of the trees across the street from the office, munching on a crust of bread. He peeks out from behind the trunk of the tree, and recognizing the tabaxi as a friend,  climbs down with a "mrawk" of excitement, although he eyes the guards with a bit of hesitation.

Meanwhile, the guards, the mayor, and the crazy old halfling exchange confused glances.
"Who is that?" the mayor inquires.
"That must be Mrawk," Traitlin concludes.
"I thought Kenku were just fairy tales," Tyus admits.
"M-m-maaaaaaagic po-po-potion," Crazy Old Dav adds, starting at the handful of glass pieces he picked up in the dungeon below.

In reply to DM (msg # 153):

"We need your help, friend. The man we captured has escaped. I don't suppose you have seen him? Of course not. Anyway, there is a raven here who knows something. He is trying to tell me something but being a Tabaxi I can't understand a word he says. You can though! Right? Let's go find him and you can translate. I'm sure you can talk a little. Just a little?"

Lazaret hustles Mrawk over to where the raven is resting and makes very bizarre introductions.

Mrawk gives his raven head a curious tilt as Lazaret explains the task at hand, but nods in what the tabaxi hopes is comprehension. He follows to the office and deftly climbs onto the roof after Lazaret. Tyus follows them as well, not as deftly, but eventually, to observe the latest twist in his investigation.

"Where in the name of Pelor's golden beard are they going now?" the mayor inquires, wandering with Traitlin and the halfling wizard to the side of the building.

The mysterious raven is still perched atop the chimney, cawing repeatedly.
"Is that blackwing?" Tyus questions while carefully climbing onto the rooftop and rising from his knees to his feet. "Wonder what he's doing up here. He usually sits on the statue in the park."

Mrawk approaches the bird, listens, then squawks in return.

The raven caws again, this time in the three-cawed triplet that Lazaret recognized before.
Mrawk nods and caws himself. This goes on back and forth for the better part of a minute before the raven gives a final definitive caw while flapping his wings.

After this, Mrawk turns to Lazaret and looks him in the eye. He points into the chimney and then draws his hand out of it in sweeping arc that ends with him pointing at the rooftop next to the chimney. Then he tiptoes away from the chimney, looking suspiciously over his shoulder as he does.

Before anyone can say anything he waves his hands and caws sharply, then tiptoes suspiciously back toward the chimney, raises his knee over the top of it as if climbing in, then points back into the chimney.

Mrawk points at the sun, then points due east and traces an arc across the sky overhead ending  due west. Finally, he points into the chimney again, then draws his hand out of it in the same sweeping arc he used before, pointing at the rooftop and then tiptoeing away while looking over his shoulder.

After two or three suspicious tiptoe steps, he caws, spins, puts his hands on his hips, and nods to Lazaret.

"I'm not sure I caught all that," Tyus admits. "Did you?"

In reply to DM (msg # 155):

"Thank you, my friend. Let me know if I am getting this right:

"Someone, the hooded man?, escaped from the jail via the chimney. He then came back and climbed down before escaping again the next day?"

"If what the raven and the raven man have to say, caw, or pantomime is right, then the hooded man is our murderer! He was trying to take revenge on us by making it look like Thorfire was the killer.

"The bastard must pay!"

"Blackwing, if that is your name, do you know where the hooded man went?"

"And Dev, what kind of magic potion was it?"

"Mrawk," replies Mrawk, clapping his hands in the affirmative.


"It was a setup," Tyus adds excitedly. "You knew the location of his secret cave, so he needed you out of the way."
"And we fell for it," the mayor concedes with a shake of his head.


The raven flaps his wings from atop the chimney and caws. Mrawk nods, then caws himself and points to the north. Straight up the northern road from which they came a couple days earlier.

The answer to the final question is more difficult to get. The crazy halfling explains that while he can determine the exact nature of the potion, the material cost is significant. He fishes out a small pouch and from it a beautiful pearl. "Wi-will n-ne-ne-need this," he stammers. "A hu-hu-hundred gold."

"A hundred gold?" the mayor protests. "That's outrageous!"
The wizard only shrugs his shoulders as if to say take it or leave it.

In reply to DM (msg # 157):

"Pay him, Mayor Noir! My friends and I have some unfinished business to the North."
This message was last edited by the player at 12:24, Mon 22 Jan 2018.

In reply to Lazaret (msg # 158):

Mr. Mayor, we will travel back to the hooded man's cave.  If he is there, I will bring you his head.  The rest of the body we will likely feed to the giant rats.  I see no need to bring him to trial just so he can escape and kill again.  He mumbles to himself, that's what we should have done in the first place.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:51, Mon 22 Jan 2018.

"Very impressive game of charades, Laz, bravo!" Celador compliments the tabaxi.

"Although I am not looking forward to heading back to that cave, I do feel that this is unfinished business that requires our attention," he replies to Thorfire, "However we are not judge and jury in this town. Mr. Mayor, do we have your authority to handle this fugitive and murderer as we see fit?"

In reply to Celador Qiris (msg # 160):

Thorfire whispers to his pointy eared friend, I always find it easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.

"if he denies me permission then, by all means, you can ask for forgiveness." Celador replies in a whisper to the half cocked half pint.

In reply to Celador Qiris (msg # 162):

Joining in the whispers. "This is personal. We deal with it our way. The mayor has no authority here while Sister Gwendelon is out. And I believe her authority barely stretches past the city limits."

In reply to Lazaret (msg # 163):

So we are in agreement, he hobo kill the bastard. Thorfire whispers back.

The mayor ponders long and hard the deal before him, running his hands through his hair and tugging at it several times before finally reaching a decision. "Fine," he sighs. "One hundred gold. If it puts this case to rest, then it's money well spent. Tyus, go down to the dungeon and pick up every last piece of shattered glass you can find."

He leads them back into the office, where they clean the papers from Enoch's desk and lay out the pieces of glass already collected there. Enoch protests, but his complaints fall on deaf ears as the mayor continues to put pieces of the case together. "So the potion might explain how he got out of the dungeon last night, but what of the night Merris was murdered? There was no broken glass on the floor then."

Tyus comes up from the basement with another handful of glass and adds it to the pieces on the table. The Wizard begins to mumble to himself while he arranges the glass bits on the table.

In reply to DM (msg # 165):

Lazaret makes his way to the stables and procures some horses in the name of Mayor Naar.

"Well, if we are headed back on the road again, I shall see if Mattis has some pasties to pack up as a quick lunch," sighs Celador as he heads off in the direction of the Trollop and the Troll.

"I will meet you at the northern road in an hour," he calls back.

The mad halfling wizard swirls his hands over the pearl, the glass pieces, and a feather produced from another of his many pouches and pockets. He mumbles quietly to himself at first, but then his tone sharpens, transforming into clear words, although they are meaningless to any but those well versed in the arcane arts. The air around the items on the table begins to crackle with energy and glow in a faint, red-orange light. At the height of the crackling, he places one hand over the glass pieces and closes his eyes while holding his other hand in the air above, manipulating his fingers as if sorting through a collection of pebbles.

After a few moments, the glowing light subsides, the halfling opens his eyes, and the pearl and feather have disappeared.

"P-p-p-potion of lllll-levi-lllll-levi-lev-lev... float in the air."

With the identification complete, Lazaret leaves the office and heads to the stable. There he finds a stable keeper in the process of feeding the horses. She stands about 5 and a half feet tall, is dark-skinned with short, jet black hair hidden beneath an straw hat.

"Well, you must be the long-winded tabaxi I've been hearing so much about," she states matter-of-factly while extending her hand confidently. "Janella Songsteel."

OOC: DC15 persuasion check to get free loaner horses from Janella.



Meanwhile, Celador heads to the Trollip and Troll in search of something better than trail rations for their upcoming road trip. As expected, he finds Mattis Bumbleford hard at work. She smiles and giggles as the elf enters, scurrying from a table and waving as she does.

"Good morning," she chirps. "I trust you slept well at the Stronghammer, free from imprisonment?"

OOC: DC2 persuasion check to get a good serving of food for the road from Mattis.

In reply to DM (msg # 169):

Thorfire can't wait to get on the road...finally a chance at more killing.  He is getting a little twitchy, he better kill something soon.   He joins the elf for a bite to eat.

20:44, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 8 using 1d20+2, rerolling ones.
Persuasion
This message was last edited by the player at 02:46, Thu 25 Jan 2018.

In reply to Thorfire Shortankard (msg # 170):

"Firestar of the Lazaret. Pleased to meet you. I haven't much time. A sinister man has escaped from the jail and he intends to destroy this town. Mayor Naan has sent me to acquire horses. He will pay any deposit, rental, or replacement fee. When my friends and I have returned I will personally assist you in mending some of those saddles and reins over there. They have seen better days, have they not?"


21:08, Today: Lazaret rolled 12 using 1d20+8.  Persuasion - acquire horses.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:09, Thu 25 Jan 2018.

Janella furrows her brow. "Uh, I can't just give horses to anybody who needs them, even if that anybody happens to be a somebody like ...mayor Nann, as you call him."


Thorfire and Celador, meanwhile, have no such problems acquiring food from the Trollip's favorite barmaid. Mattis gladly bounds to the kitchen and returns a short time later with a bag of delicious food for the upcoming journey.

In reply to DM (msg # 172):

"My dear, you are not giving the horses away. The mayor is paying for them and I am here under his authority. Please. Time is of the essence. The survival of your town is at stake. This necromancer has threatened to return and he will destroy everything and you will no longer have any horses to refuse to give out!"


06:24, Today: Lazaret rolled 23 using 1d20+8.  Persuasion - acquire horses.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:25, Fri 26 Jan 2018.

Janella doesn't budge. "No money, no horses. If the mayor wants horses for you, I'm sure he can scratch up the required coin. 90 gold for a fully outfitted horse."

OOC: Sorry, can't let you roll twice for the same argument :(
But yes, horses would be nice.

She eyes the tabaxi cautiously and finally sighs. "Look, if you want to borrow them, I can do it for 30 gold each. Three days. That's the best I can do."

Upon coming out of the Trollip and Troll, Celador overhears the tabaxi browbeating the stable manager for a horse.

"Well, what have we here?" he says as he approaches.

"Do you know, my dear lady, that you are in the presence of the Firestar of the Lazarus? Why he is the personal valet and envoy for the fifth archduke of Aquataine. or something like that And I am Celador Qiris, captain of the guards for the elven army at Glenvendale. This is Thorfire Shortbritches, he is a deft hand with a blade and I would imagine a cheat at three dragon ante. Anyway, together we, and a couple others, have nearly single handedly saved this fair city from the evils of a necromancer and rape and plunder by a tribe of red moon ogres. All in the space of a weekend, I might add."

Celador continues, "and if you have the time, and the stomach, for it, my feline companion will sing an epic ballad of our heroics. Nevermind, the more time we spend in here the less time we spend out there, saving people like you in here from people like that....out there."

Does that count as an assist in the persuasion of Janella?

OOC: Make a persuasion roll to assist Lazaret's current 12 that needs to become a 15:
  1 to 9 means you didn't help.
  10 to 14 gives you +1
  15 to 19 gives you +2
  20 or greater gives you +3 (and a success).

Thorfire, too, could also assist with his own persuasion roll if needed.

18:25, Today: Celador Qiris rolled 1 using 1d20.  persuasion.

ouch. I guess she saw through my bullshit.

Thorfire, it is up to you now. You have to be more persuasive than that!

In reply to Celador Qiris (msg # 177):

My dear, time is of the essence.  We must capture the necromancer before he kills again.  You could be next!

Before I came in here, I saw Traitlin coming and he was carrying a pouch of coins to pay for the horses.  Let us be on our way,  we promise to treat them well and return them as quickly as possible.

19:16, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 22 using 1d20+6, rerolling ones.  Deception
19:16, Today: Thorfire Shortankard rolled 5 using 1d20+2, rerolling ones.  Persuasion

Janella tries her best not to laugh out loud at Celador's attempt to cajole her out of horses and Thorfire's original try does no better.

She eyes each of them through a long, uncomfortable silence before finally conceding.

"If they have the money, then I suppose all that's left is to get you fitted to ride." She works with each of the heroes to equip them with a horse, saddle, a small set of saddle bags, bit, and bridle. She choose a smaller horse (not a pony) for Thorfire and a rugged pair for Celador and Lazaret.

It takes the better part of an hour, but they are eventually set.

"Good luck with your necromancer," she teases as the riders depart, still not entirely convinced of their story. "Watch out for his evil spellcastery."

OOC: Unless anyone has any other business to attend to prior to leaving, I'll assume the three of you are departing for the cave.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:36, Thu 01 Feb 2018.

In the words of the irrepressible Willy Nelson: